What Happened When Blaine Skipped School
by haleygirl
Summary: What Happened When series. This is one is during Never Been Kissed, the night after Blaine sent Kurt the Courage text. In this universe Blaine still gets spanked at home as punishment.
1. Chapter 1: Tues Nov 9th 2010 6:30PM

Blaine felt his phone vibrate in his pocket while he was eating dinner that night. He slipped it out of his pocket to see the text.

**I need to talk to you. It's urgent.**

_What is this about?_

"Blaine, put the phone away. That's rude." His mother scolded.

"But Mom, it's something import-"

Blaine's dad gave him a look. "Your mother's right son."

Blaine bit his lip. Arguing with Dad was going to go nowhere fast. Resigned, he muttered a "Sorry..." and sheepishly went to put his phone on the island. His mom, satisfied, took the opportunity to lecture him further.

"You kids spend too much time with those electronics. You can't go for ten minutes without having your nose in that phone?"

Blaine was exasperated. She had been nagging him about every little thing since he'd gotten home. "Mom, I said I was sorry. I put it away, what more do you want from me?"

"I'd say she wants to see more respect when we're having a meal, young man." Mr. Anderson's voice was icy. "If I were you I'd watch my tone with my mother."

Blaine swallowed and sat down. "...Yes Dad." Mr. Anderson looked at Blaine, pointedly. Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry about my tone Mom." He poked at his casserole in misery, feeling like he was all of eight years old all of a sudden.

Blaine's phone went off several more times during dinner, jiggling along the counter- but he didn't dare get up to check it. He was wondering about it though. What could that New Directions kid mean by "urgent?" He hoped nothing bad had happened at school. Kurt had seemed so unhappy already. They had exchanged phone numbers just yesterday after he'd shared his problems with bullies. He seemed like a real nice kid.

"Can I be excused?" Blaine asked as soon as he had finished the last of the corn.

"May." Mrs. Anderson corrected.

"...May I be excused?" Blaine spoke stiltedly, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson exchanged a look. Mr. Anderson stood up with his plate.

"Yes, but you're cleaning up the dishes tonight."

Blaine was out of his seat and opening his phone the minute the "yes" had left his dad's mouth. He was just going to look up his messages when he realized.

"Wait- dad, it isn't my tur-"

"When you can use a polite tone with your mother at dinner we can talk about whose turn it is." Mr. Anderson said, putting his plate in the sink. Blaine's face fell. This was not fair. Putting down his phone, Blaine walked up to his dad at the sink.

"Dad," he protested, "I just washed the dishes yesterday. I said I was sorry, and I haven't been being rude to Mom-"

"Oh I'd tend to disagree." Mrs. Anderson interjected. Blaine turned to look at his traitorous mother. She continued, "You've been fresh with me since you got home. And you left a mess of homework all over the table this afternoon and whined when I asked you to clean it up." Blaine wanted to say something about how he hadn't been whining, that she had just interrupted him while he was watching a show on TV- but he was outnumbered. He pursed his lips, frustrated.

"Yes, so it sounds like an extra night doing the dishes might be a good reminder for your attitude." Blaine's Dad spoke with finality.

Blaine opened his mouth to respond but Mr. Anderson took his hand to stop him. "But if you're planning on taking that tone with me as well, I'm thinking you and I will need to have a serious discussion first." Mr. Anderson admonished, with a quick warning tap to Blaine's backside for good measure. "Does that need to happen first?"

Blaine felt his face warm up. He stared at the sink. "...No Dad."

"Is there going to be more backtalk from you tonight?"

_God I'm not a child_.

"...No sir."

"Good." Mr. Anderson put a dishrag into Blaine's hand. "And... just so you're not distracted, I'll hold your phone in my den until you're done with the dishes." Mr. Anderson picked the phone up from the island and headed out of the kitchen. Blaine leaned against the sink watching him leave. He looked at his mother, who sat drinking her tea, ignoring him.

Rueful, Blaine sighed and went to the table for his plate. This was all her fault. He picked up silverware and dropped them on his plate, a little too loudly. Mrs. Anderson laid a hand on his and spoke quietly. "Blaine, if you're going to throw a tantrum now, I'm just going to tell your father to come back."

Blaine looked at her, holding his outrage in. _This isn't a tantrum. God._ Biting his tongue, he slipped his hand out from under hers and slowly made a show of stacking the plate nicely over hers. It was really amazing, he thought as he turned to carry them back to the sink, how he could feel so grown up at school sometimes and so... not... at home. At Dalton the schoolwork was pretty intense and he had to wear a uniform, but the teachers gave the students a lot of freedom otherwise. At home he felt like someone was constantly putting him in his place.

_Man I can't wait for college._


	2. Chapter 2: 7:30PM

So Blaine didn't get around to calling Kurt back until it was almost seven thirty. After finishing the dishes, his Dad had taken up another five minutes to remind Blaine that his phone was a privilege and that his mother works hard and don't you think she deserves more appreciation? Blaine nodded, trying to look as chastised as possible- because really, what other choice was there?

It wasn't always like this, usually he did a pretty good job being a model teenager, and his parents were fine. But as his older brother used to say, "Mom's not as strict as Dad, but if you get on her bad side and Dad hears about it, you're never going to hear the end of it." _Truer words never spoken_, Blaine thought, as he finally was able to retrieve his phone. Maybe he had been kind of short with her when he got home after school, but _come_ _on_.

Finally heading out of the den, Blaine checked his messages. Kurt had texted him several times.

** Hope I'm not bothering you. Just kinda need advice.**

** If you don't get this until later, just text me back. I'll be up late.**

** I'm on skype now if you're around.**

Something was definitely up. Truth be told, Blaine kind of liked that this kid was turning to him for advice. No one had ever really done that before. At home he was the baby of the family, and at Dalton he was just starting to gain some clout. It made him feel needed, important. Kurt was a nice guy, and he'd always wished he'd had someone his own age to talk to when he'd dealt with the jerks from his old school. He hoped Kurt would be brave and things would get better. He was loving Dalton, but part of him wished he could have just sucked it up and stayed in public school. It had been bad- really bad sometimes, but he had also been more... fragile back then. He didn't know how to stand up for himself then. And while Dad never said anything, Blaine knew that the whole thing had really embarrassed his dad. Blaine was happy now, but he wished it had played out differently. Blaine dialed Kurt's number, and Kurt picked up on the first ring.

"Blaine?"

"Hey. I got your texts. What's up?"

"Yeah, I've been trying to reach you all night."

"Sorry about that. I was- busy." _Sorry my dad's being a jerk and held my phone hostage for no good reason. _Blaine headed upstairs towards his room where he could speak more freely.

"It's okay. It's just..." Kurt's voice was thin. "I don't... have anyone I can talk to about this and... I..."

Blaine was getting worried. "Kurt. Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"I'm fine. I'm... you're going to think I'm being dramatic. I'm really sorry if I'm bothering you."

"You're not bothering me. We're friends now. What's going on?" Blaine closed the door to his room and then settled himself on his bed.

"I did what you said."

"You mean you-"

"Yeah. I confronted Karofsky."

"Kurt! That's amazing, what did he say?"

"He kissed me."

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"He- What?"

"I followed him into the locker room. I told him to hit me. I said hit me because it's not going to change who I am- or something like that. I can't remember."

Blaine's eyes widened. "Wow. That's amazing Kurt."_ I don't know if I'd have the balls to say something like that._

"Yeah, I guess. I... and he..." Kurt's voice got low. "He grabbed my face and kissed me."

"...Shit."

"Yeah. And- I didn't know what to do, I was just- in shock... and then he went like he was going to do it again and- I pushed him away. And then he stormed out of the room."

"I can't believe he's gay. Wow."

"Yeah. I guess he is."

Both boys were quiet. Blaine didn't know what to say. _What would Greg say? _This mentor hat was new and this was serious, and the only person he could think he'd ever share something like that with was his brother. Or Dr. Mitchell. Maybe.

"What's his name again?"

"Karofsky. Dave Karofsky."

"Well, I guess... Karofsky's been such a jerk to you because he's just really freaked out that he's gay."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. He either hates himself for being gay and just hates on everybody because of it, or he's so terrified anyone could find out that he has to be so...publicly homophobic just in case anyone might ever guess."

"Or both."

"Yeah. Or both."

"I'm freaking out, Blaine. My lunch wave is right after his. We pass each other every day right then and I've been thinking of bagging a lunch and eating in the bathroom just to avoid him. I don't know what to say him next time I see him." Kurt's voice was rising. Blaine needed to diffuse this.

"Shhh. It's okay. It's- going to be okay." Blaine worked hard to make it sound like he knew what he was talking about. "He's probably going to be embarrassed. He's probably trying to sort out his feelings and he doesn't know what to do with them. A lot of gay kids have a hard time coming out. And he's been working so hard to cover it up."

"I was already miserable avoiding him everywhere, but now-"

"Now he's not just a bully Kurt." Blaine interrupted. "He's- he's one of us. You gotta talk to him."

"Talk to him? What? I can't-"

"You've got to. Kurt, you're the only one who knows he's gay. He could be depressed- a lot of kids commit suicide because they can't deal with being in the closet."

"He's not going to kill himself. Anyway, it's not my responsibility- All the things he's done to me—"

"Kurt, I know. You're right. But... think about what it was like before you came out. Imagine how much harder it would have been if you were a football player, if your family was less supportive, there's intense pressure to act straight... even in the best of circumstances." Blaine thought ruefully about how early on he hadn't wanted to come out to his Dad just because he thought it would let him down. Just another way he wasn't as perfect as his brother.

Kurt thought Blaine had a point, but he wasn't sure he could find it in himself to put aside all that had happened. "What am I even supposed to say to him? God, he's just going to beat me up anyway."

"I don't think he's going to beat you up anymore."

"You think he's going to kiss me again?"

"I think... You broke through him. He's probably desperate for a friend, honestly."

"A friend?" Kurt clucked. The whole idea of Dave Karofsky needing a "friend" seemed absurd. "You don't know this guy..." Kurt actually laughed a bit.

"Hey, I'm serious. No one ever stood up to him before and that's how he responded? You did something incredible. I can't even believe it. You single handedly changed his life. He has to deal with this now. He's probably really lonely and doesn't know what to do."

"If I talk to him about it, he's going to- I don't know what. He already has hurt me before, if he thinks I'm going to out him he'll get angry. "

"Not if..." Blaine trailed off, thoughtful.

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Not if what?"

"Well. If you want... I could talk to him with you. Then it'd be two against one. I think if he just could hear that he wasn't the only one, and that there were places he could go for help with this... he'd want to listen. No one wants to be alone."

"I don't know. You're- you're a lot more optimistic than I am."

"I've been to a lot of PFLAG events, Kurt. They have speakers all the time. They always say that a lot of gay kids act out to cover up their feelings before they come out. Seriously, I think you could make a big difference by doing this."

Kurt sighed. "I've known you a day and you've already got me doing all kinds of things I'd never imagined I'd do."

Blaine laughed. "Well, that just means it's the start of a wonderful friendship, Kurt. Good friends help each other step out of their comfort zones. But... I think if we're going to talk to him, it needs to be soon. And somewhere kind of public, so if he did... want to get physical there would be witnesses."

"...What did you have in mind?"

Blaine bit his lip nervously. He was a little surprised with himself that he was even considering this. But it made sense.

"Well- you said you always run into him around lunch?"

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow I have a study hall before lunch. I could- probably get out of that and drive out to McKinley."

"Are you serious?"

"Totally serious." Blaine smiled at the sigh of relief over the phone.

"That would be- amazing."

"I've got your back. He doesn't know me so we don't have history that will make him defensive. I'll just calmly let him know that I know what he did, and that it's something he has to deal with in a more healthy way."

"You sound like some kind of a therapist."

Blaine didn't know quite what to say to that. But having seen a therapist or two after the Sadie Hawkins mess, maybe he had absorbed some of the lingo.

"Well, I don't know about _that_, but... if I was there would you feel better?"

"Yes." Kurt didn't hesitate.

"Then it's done. I'll text you tomorrow when I get up."

It wasn't until after Blaine hung up that he tried to figure out the details. This was going to be tricky. He'd never skipped school before. It wasn't worth trying to get Mom or Dad on board with this- he was sure they'd never go for it. School was school. So, he'd have to be careful and most importantly, not get caught.


	3. Chapter 3: Wed Nov 10th 6AM

Blaine awoke the next morning full of nervous energy. He was really going to do this. He needed to do this. It was his chance to be the friend for someone that he'd wished he'd had.

As he turned on the shower, he thought of those early days after the Sadie Hawkins dance, sitting in Dr. Mitchell's office every week, trying to put his life back together. He remembered the rainy day when Dr. Mitchell had said, "Prejudice is just ignorance," and how that simple statement had been such an epiphany for Blaine. It had made him want to change the world. If he had a bigger allowance he'd give money to the Trevor Project. He'd become a guidance counselor, or write a song that would help people understand their ignorance. He walked out of that office that day wanting to personally change the world. By then he was already at Dalton, just finding his way in a new school. At first he had just wanted out of his old school, and his parents had been so disgusted with how the aftermath was handled by the administration that the move to Dalton happened very quickly. But the more he talked about his experiences, the more he hated himself for running. If he hadn't been such a wuss, walking around like a victim all the time, maybe he wouldn't have been such an easy target. If he had stood up for himself in the hallways, just once, maybe those guys wouldn't have been so sure that he and Kyle would be easy prey that night. He didn't like to think about that night often, but he often thought of those weeks leading up to it. The taunting in the hallways had been pretty relentless, and all he had done was whine about it to the faculty. Maybe if he had known what to say, and known how to talk about this with confidence the way he felt he could now- he was sure he could have changed some minds. Maybe he could have changed everything.

It was all fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. There was no way to know what would have happened if he'd ever stood up to his bullies. Dr. Mitchell had assured him more than once about all of this, saying that choosing Dalton was a family decision, and even it hadn't been, choosing a safe environment over a toxic one wasn't being cowardly. It was being smart. But deep down, Blaine still felt like it was. So that is why he told Kurt to stand up to Karofsky. The only way the world was going to change for kids like them was if those kids started talking to other kids and changing minds. Because, he thought ruefully, adults were pretty near useless in this department. At least in public school.

But Karofsky wasn't just another bully now. He really was someone who needed help. Who could be helped, Blaine told himself. He was a teenager just struggling to come out. _He probably thinks being a victim is the worst thing that could happen to a person_, Blaine mused. Blaine would never admit it, but he too had caved to pressres to "act straight" before he came out. He never beat anybody up, but there were definitely times he heard other kids get picked on and kept walking by, afraid to be included in the assault. And there was that one time playing kickball in his neighbor's yard when they were in fifth grade. He'd kicked hard and the kid down the street got hit in the face and started crying. Another kid went running inside to get an ice pack, but when his friend Jake had turned to him to say "Wow he's such a fag. It's just a ball, jeez...," Blaine had bit his lip and nodded, hanging back with him rather than risking anyone guessing. Blaine had just learned what that word meant, and had just started really wondering if maybe that was what he was. He hadn't been sure what he thought of it yet, but he sure knew what some of his friends thought of it.

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, his thoughts turned to today's plan. He didn't really think Karofsky would try anything, but he knew he needed to assure Kurt that he'd be there for him if he started shoving or anything. Boxing had given him a lot of confidence- he was pretty sure he could defend himself against just one guy. But hopefully that wouldn't even be an issue. He would do the talking, he decided- Kurt was probably going to lose his nerve. And anyway, Karofsky would probably try to change the subject, make it about Kurt if the focus was on him. If it was this person he'd never met before calling him out- he'd have to listen. And at the very least if he knew that someone else knew, he'd probably leave Kurt alone for good. That alone would make all of this worth it.

Blaine rehearsed what he wanted to say in his head as he got into his school uniform. But in some ways, confronting this Karofsky kid was going to be the easy part of all of this. It was the getting there and the getting back to Dalton that would be a challenge. He had to go to his first two classes. He had considered just taking off the whole day but then the headmaster would be asking for a doctor's note, and he would miss Warbler practice. The council would kill him if he missed practice with Sectionals looming. He had to be marked present, just miss part of the day, and hope no one noticed. Study hall was perfect because he could just say he was going to go to the library or the quad to read and no one would really pay much attention. As long as no one was in the parking lot, it was unlikely anyone would even notice him leaving. And he just had to get back in time for Math after lunch. It would be like he never left. Even if he ran a couple minutes late it would be okay, he reasoned. He'd get a demerit or two for being late, but no one would make a big deal of it as long as he showed up. If he got caught leaving, or if he missed more than the first 10 minutes of class, that'd be enough demerits to warrant a detention. He couldn't risk a detention though, because a detention meant having to get a letter signed and his parents would have to find out. Obviously that was simply not an option. But that wasn't going to happen.

He could do this. He had to. For Kurt.


	4. Chapter 4: 6:30AM

"Morning Blaine." Mrs. Anderson was surprised to see how early her son was down for breakfast. Usually Blaine dragged in the morning hours, but today he seemed full of energy.

"Morning Mom. Dad."

Mr. Anderson waved at Blaine without looking up from his paper. Blaine had inherited his usual lack of morning personality directly from him.

Blaine found that knowing he was going to skip school meant it was all he could think about. He didn't have a whole lot of experience with these kinds of clandestine operations. _If they had any idea I'd be dead._ He wasn't sure, but he didn't think Greg had ever skipped school. Or at least he'd never been caught. The prospect of getting a detention didn't really matter to Blaine, but the certainty that his parents would find out about it if he did was nerve racking. Aside from the nonsense last night, it had been a while since Blaine had really been in trouble. He hadn't gotten so much as a swat for months. And he intended to keep it that way.

Jittery, he reached into the fruit bowl and started peeling an orange.

"You were up early today." Mrs. Anderson thought there was something odd with Blaine this morning, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"I guess." Blaine shrugged.

"Excited to get your Latin test out of the way then?"

Blaine blinked. "How'd you know about that?"

Mrs. Anderson smiled. "Because I had to stare at your review packets all over the table yesterday, remember."

Blaine gave her a sheepish look. "Oh. Right. Sorry about that."

Mrs. Anderson looked at her son, appraisingly. He was forgiven. He was too adorable not to forgive, she thought. Of course she would never say so. Especially since she was pretty sure "adorable" was not something a tenth grader wants to hear himself described as. He was growing up so fast these days, she mused.

Blaine reached for his coat but his mother balked. "Blaine you can't just eat an orange for breakfast. Sit down awhile and I'll make you some oatmeal."

Blaine made a face. Oatmeal was not his favorite. "Uh actually, I was thinking about checking out that new coffee shop in Lima this morning. They have bagels and stuff."

Mr. Anderson looked up. "You're just like your brother." He was smiling. He always smiled when he talked about Greg, or at least that's what it seemed like to Blaine.

"How do you mean?"

"You've had your license about ten minutes now and always just looking for any excuse to drive somewhere new."

Blaine smiled, buttoning his jacket. "Kinda."

Mrs. Anderson laughed over her coffee. "Well okay. You'll have to tell us if it's any good."

Mr. Anderson put his paper down. "Drive the speed limit. And don't leave the lights on. And you keep forgetting to put gas in it. Blaine, you're going to get stuck somewhere one of these days if you ride it so close to empty all the time."

"Yes Dad." The downside of being able to drive was there was now a long list of new things Blaine's parents could nag him about.

"Oh, and you need to come straight home after your practice tonight because your mother needs the car for her book club. I've got to replace one of the headlights on mine tonight. You can drive to the coffee shop but then it's Dalton and straight back, alright?"

"Blaine's a good kid, he'll be responsible Gabe, I'm sure."

Blaine felt a little guilty hearing this unsolicited compliment. Driving while skipping school probably wasn't going to fit their definition of responsible, Blaine guessed. But it was for a good reason, he reminded himself.

"Yes sir. Dalton and straight back home today. No problem."


	5. Chapter 5: 9AM to 11:30AM

The Latin test turned out to be very painful. Blaine had studied, but apparently had focused on all the wrong things. Plus, he was too distracted thinking about what he was about to do to concentrate. He was sure he passed, but he was also pretty sure he wasn't going to be pleased with the grade he'd get. When time was up he handed the test into the proctor and hoped for the best.

U.S. History was a little easier. Groups of students were making presentations about figures from the Civil War, but his group wasn't up until tomorrow. All he had to do was face forward and pretend like he was listening, when really he was playing out travel scenarios in his mind, thinking about which routes would get him to McKinley and back the fastest. If he hit traffic on the highway it'd be better to go on the backroads, he decided. He was pretty sure he would have a decent window of time, but he didn't want to go into this without thinking through any of the things that might go wrong. Karofsky probably wasn't going to be up for a long conversation. He needed to be clear and concise with him, the way the teachers at Dalton talked about making speeches and presentations. Get the point across and then keep the door open if he wants to talk further. He wished he had a PFLAG brochure or something he could give the guy. He had to make sure Karofsky knew he couldn't pretend anymore, and most importantly, that he couldn't torture Kurt anymore. He had to know that Kurt wasn't alone in this now. Blaine had been bullied at his old school, he had come to believe, because he had been so clearly isolated most of the time. He was awkward and shy in middle school, especially as he came to terms with his sexuality. He didn't have a lot of friends and the ones he did have weren't terribly intimidating. It made him an easy target, he thought regretfully. At the very least if Karofsky knew someone else was willing to stand up for Kurt, he'd probably think twice about trying stuff in the future.

"Mr. Anderson?"

Blaine heard Mr. Karsky's voice just as Nick was giving him a little shove to pay attention. He shook himself out of his daydream, startled.

"I- uh..." Everyone in the classroom was staring. _Oh God. _"I- I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Mr. Karsky sighed. "I said, will your group be prepared to present tomorrow?"

"Oh y-ye-es sir. We're ready."

"Well I hope so, because today's groups were top notch and I expect those of you who have had an extra day to prepare will have something to show for it. But Mr. Anderson, maybe tomorrow you can spend a little less time looking out the window while your peers are sharing their work?"

Blaine stammered. "S-sorry sir." Blaine was mortified. He never got in trouble at school. He had learned early in his school career that getting in trouble at school nearly always meant getting in trouble at home and he had always complied pretty quickly with that in mind. Being scolded in front of the rest of the class was downright embarrassing. He looked askance at Nick, who was very clearly trying to stifle a laugh. Mr. Karsky turned to write the night's reading assignment on the board and Blaine took the opportunity to mouth "Shut Up" and glare at Nick, who just looked away, amused.

Blaine looked up at the clock, willing the second hand to go faster. When Mr. Karsky dismissed the whole class he pulled Blaine aside to say he expected better of him, that his classmates had worked hard on their presentations and it had been rude not to give them the full attention they deserved. This made Blaine feel like a complete jerk and he muttered another apology, saying he was sorry and that he just had a lot on his mind. It was a quick conversation, but Blaine had to force himself not to glance up at the ticking clock above Mr. Karsky's head. He was a little nervous for a second that he was going to get a demerit, but Mr. Karsky let it go at that. He had never had to speak to Blaine about his behavior before, so he didn't push it.

_Well this is already turning out to be a banner day. _Blaine was feeling like he'd screwed up twice already- first in probably not doing so well on that test and now Mr. Karsky was irritated with him. He was grateful to finally get out into the hallway and set his mind on the plan ahead. Stopping by his study hall, he asked the bespectacled Mr. Thompson if he could go to the library, trying to act casual. Mr. Thompson, who was busy grading a pile of chemistry tests, shooed him off without a thought. Blaine couldn't help but smile at how easy this was. He didn't even need him to write a pass. The faculty just trusted him to be able to get to where he needed to be. It was so different from at home, where his parents were always demanding the details of where he was and who he was with. Much as he sometimes regretted leaving public school, this was definitely Blaine's favorite thing about Dalton. The Warblers didn't even have a faculty advisor- the administration just entrusted the whole group to the council. Blaine had always thought that was amazing. He really did love Dalton.

_ It's too bad Kurt can't come here. That would probably solve all his problems._

Once in the library, Blaine headed towards the back stairway behind some shelves. No one was back there so he easily slipped down the stairs and ducked his head out the exit door. The parking lot was empty. This was it. Resolved, he texted Kurt.

**On my way. Hang in there.**


	6. Chapter 6: Noon

Blaine got to McKinley pretty fast. He mostly drove the speed limit but there wasn't much traffic. Pulling into the parking lot, he was taken with how big the school building was. He guessed there were probably four or five times as many students at McKinley as at little old Dalton. The Sadie Hawkins thing had been in the spring of eighth grade. If he hadn't transferred out, maybe he'd be at this ginormous school now too. Maybe Kurt and him would be friends and he'd never have heard of the Warblers. It was wild to think about.

Getting out of the car, he saw some commotion over by the dumpster. He was confused at first- _why are all those kids crowded around a dumpster? _But then he saw that there were two guys putting other kids INTO the dumpster. Which Blaine found rather horrifying. _Oh right. That's why I left public school. _Blaine wondered if one of them was Karofsky. He kind of hoped not, because those guys were pretty big. His resolve was shaking now that he was really here. If he got caught his Dad would tan his hide for sure. He could just imagine the lecture, about how the Andersons were spending good money on tuition and here he was skipping school... This was a little crazy. If he left now he could get back in time to-

"Hey."

One look at Kurt's face and he remembered why he was there. He looked so miserable, and yet... relieved at the same time. This kid really needed a friend. And Blaine was going to help him. No matter what.

"Hey." Blaine smiled and put an arm on Kurt's shoulder.

"You sure you want to do this?"

"Positive. I keep my word."

"You're not going to get in trouble at school are you?"

"Nah, I'm not worried about it." Blaine tried to project confidence.

"Well, I usually see him somewhere this way..." Kurt started up the stairs and Blaine followed. "Thanks for doing this."

"Of course Kurt. Just let me do the talking."

"That's him."

Blaine took a breath. "I got your back."


	7. Chapter 7: 12:15PM

"Until yesterday I'd never been kissed. Or at least... one that counted."

That confession knocked the wind out of Blaine. It was so intimate. This poor guy. Having looked Karofsky in the eye now, he understood more what Kurt had been dealing with. He was still stunned by how quickly Karofsky had turned on him, and then that little boy nervous look he'd had as he'd walked away... It wasn't surprising, Blaine supposed. He had hoped to fix things more, but no one could say he didn't try. He could be proud of this. It was worth it to just to plant the seed and hope someone got the guy a therapist or something someday. There was no guarantee he would leave Kurt alone forever now, but if he was really that ashamed of his sexuality, maybe the fear of being outed would make him back off for awhile. But to think that that jerk was Kurt's first kiss... yeah, that sucked.

He remembered his first kiss. It had been Kyle, that night waiting on the bench outside the school after the dance. He had looked up to Kyle. He had come out earlier in the year, and his willingness to be honest about that had given Blaine the confidence to admit it to himself, his brother, and ultimately his parents and friends. He envied his confidence, and when the school announced a Sadie Hawkins Dance he thought hard about what that implied. It was a chance for someone who usually doesn't do the asking to do so. The concept gave Blaine confidence. _Usually I'd be too nervous to ask, he probably doesn't like me like that anyway... but this is supposed to mix things up. I can brush it off as not being that serious if he turns me down._ No one else was out at the school, and Blaine believed at the time that Kyle probably only said yes because he didn't have other options. But that was okay. It was a real date. It was a big middle school event and Blaine looked forward to it the whole week.

It had been a great time. Turned out Kyle was a big Katy Perry fan too and had laughed out loud when he realized that Blaine knew all the lyrics to "Hot n Cold." They had never talked about music before and spent most of the rest of the evening comparing favorite Top 40 hits. Kyle had purposely hung around long at the dance, waiting until the last second to call his dad to pick him up. He probably would have held out even longer if Blaine hadn't insisted that he couldn't risk his father's wrath if they were out any later. Mrs. Samuelson, the last of the dance's chaperones, was just getting into her Honda Civic. "Hey boys, you got a ride comin'?" "Yeah, we're good!" Kyle had called out, so she shrugged, got in the car, and drove away. There were some other kids hanging about further down the parking lot, but for all intents and purposes, they were alone.

Blaine was so busy anxiously looking down the road for Kyle's dad's car, worrying about what his parents would say if he didn't get home soon, that he hardly registered the touch of Kyle's hand to his shoulder. Or when it slid slowly down his arm. He turned to ask Kyle what color his dad's car was again- when he caught the slow smile creeping on his face. And felt his hand clasp around his. Oh. For the rest of his life he would never forget the butterflies he felt as he shakily reached his other hand out to grasp Kyle's. He'd never really held hands before, at least not since preschool, and there was something very sweet about it. He didn't know what to say, wondering if he was looking like a dork, when suddenly Kyle let go and touched his face, leaning forward to touch his lips to his. It was a short, sweet little kiss, nothing like how Blaine had imagined, but perfect. And then, while Blaine was still breathless, barely processing what had happened, Kyle leaned his forehead against his and confessed "I've been wanting to do that all night." Not even thinking, Blaine blurted, "For real?" And Kyle had smirked and nodded a shy little nod. Blaine was over the moon but didn't know what else to say. He wanted to kiss Kyle again, but he was nervous, so he just sort of smiled back. A car came by to pick up some girls at the end of the lot, and Blaine and Kyle sat next to each other on the bench, still waiting with this everything's-different-now sensation, too afraid to ruin the moment to say anything.

The rest of the story wasn't so sweet. It was two minutes later that he felt an unfriendly hand on his shoulder, pushing him off the bench- the start of an awful four or five minutes that ended with his bloody face in the sidewalk thanking God it was over as he heard their attackers run off at the sight of headlights coming up the long hill of a school driveway. Blaine heard the car screech and the door slam, and watched fuzzily as Mr. Rodriguez' shoes came running towards him, screaming "Kyle- oh my God, Kyle!" No, the rest of the story was a blur of violence and shame. There were images that wouldn't stay out of his mind for a long time. The taste of the blood on his lip. The look on his mother's face when he walked through the door, carrying a piece of tooth in his hand. The sound of his father's voice calling to say that he was withdrawing Blaine from West Lima Middle School.

That night was his lowest point, on so many levels. But he refused to let go of that one perfect moment that proceeded it. _Because fuck them. _

He would never know if Kyle and he ever could have really been a couple- the attackers had guaranteed that the only conversations they would have in the future would be awkward ones. Blaine had tried to talk to him about it on the phone that summer and Kyle had stammered that Blaine should stop talking about it, that he had been confused, that it wasn't that big of a deal. Blaine took from that that Kyle was crawling back into the closet, and to be honest, he didn't blame him. If it weren't for Dalton, and Dr. Mitchell- well, who knows what Blaine would have done. They stopped talking when Blaine transferred and one night Blaine noticed that he'd unfriended him on Facebook. He didn't bother to try to make contact; clearly Kyle wanted to be left alone. Last month a neighbor mentioned that he'd moved out of state. He wondered about him sometimes, and whether he was out in his new school, whether he'd ever make peace with who he was again. But it was probably best that he didn't have to see him all the time anymore, it made it easier to forget. Kyle didn't owe him anything, and he really would be grateful to him forever for that one special first kiss. Firsts matter, and he looked back on that first fondly, ignoring all the rest.

So Kurt saying his first kiss was ruined was just heartbreaking. It was all so unfair. For a second he wanted to say, "Hey- I'll kiss you, let's just call it a do-over." No skin off my back, you're cute enough... But that wouldn't be fair either, and it wouldn't change anything. It would look like he was taking advantage of him. They weren't together. A kiss wasn't going to make McKinley better for him, and probably it would just upset Kurt more. He'd already had someone kiss him uninvited. He wanted more. Anyone would. It would just cause confusion, and Blaine felt sure that he had been put into this guy's life for a reason. Kurt needed a friend.

"Come on. I'll buy you lunch."


	8. Chapter 8: 12:20PM to 1PM

They didn't talk about Karofsky at Subway. They talked about Glee, and how Blaine probably barely passed his Latin test this morning, and how Kurt had spent last weekend looking at fashion magazines and wishing he lived in Paris. Blaine waxed poetic about how the Buckeyes were this season and Kurt feigned interest. Kurt started out lunch just miserable and depressed, but by the end of it he was in a much better mood. Mission accomplished.

Blaine wanted to keep the conversation going, but they were both skipping school at this point, and the lady at the counter was looking at them suspiciously. He really had to get going if he was going to make it back to math without anyone noticing.

Blaine drove Kurt back to McKinley and then headed off back towards Dalton, nervously checking the clock on the dashboard. It would be tight, but he'd make it. He probably shouldn't have spent so long talking over lunch, but they'd been having fun and it was really the first time he'd seen Kurt smile since he'd watched the Warblers perform. He was kind of adorable when he smiled. And he was really interesting. _Some guy's going to be lucky to have him some day. _He wished he knew someone who was looking for a relationship because he'd set them up.

The ride back went quicker than he expected. Blaine was just pulling up to a stoplight about a mile from Dalton when he checked the time again. _Ten minutes to spare. I am the master. _He couldn't believe he'd pulled this off. He never did things like this. There was something kind of exciting about getting away with it.

The light turned green and Blaine cheerfully hit the gas pedal. The car sputtered. Blaine pressed the gas pedal again, confused, and the car stalled. _What the-? _Blaine turned the key and the car started again. He drove about four feet before the car died completely.

_Oh my God. I ran out of gas. Fuck._


	9. Chapter 9: 1:05PM

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm such an idiot._

Blaine sat paralyzed for a minute, disrupted in his cursing at himself only by the horns honking behind him. Eventually people saw he was broken down and drove around him, but every few cars, someone would drive up and honk, thinking he was just stopping up traffic for no reason. His mouth was dry. His hands were clammy. He had no idea what to do, except wave out the window for people to drive by.

One guy stopped and rolled down his window – "Hey, you alright?"

"Uh I ran out of gas."

"I see that." _Yes I know I'm an idiot, you don't have to point it out sir. _"Do you have Triple A?"

_ Well. Yes. But..._

"Well? You know what that is?"

Blaine shook himself out of his stupor. "I, yeah- I mean, I know what it is."_ I'm not an idiot._ "My parents have it."

The man definitely thought he was an idiot. "You need a cell phone?"

"N-n-no sir, I- I got it. Th-thank you." Blaine held up his cell.

"Well you need to call them to rescue you. You're blocking up traffic." The man rolled his eyes and drove off.

Blaine sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. He stared at the clock above the radio. One more minute and he was officially late. _Damn it. _Dalton was surrounded by woods and a lake. The closest gas station at the moment was a couple miles away. He'd have to walk all that way, hope they had one of those containers for gas... _What do those things even cost?_... and then walk all the way back. In his uniform, which he somehow was just now realizing was basically a walking advertisement that he was skipping school. He opened his phone and stared at it for a minute. Considering his options. He knew his parents had Triple A because his mom had called them the time the battery died last year. She had a card in her purse and had called with the number. But he didn't have the card, so he didn't have the number. He could call his Dad, but he'd want to know why he needed it. And why he needed it at one in the afternoon when he was supposed to be in school. Blaine contemplated the lies he could tell. _I was just thinking, very responsibly, that I really should have that number written down somewhere, Dad. ...Why am I not in Algebra right now? Oh, well it's a special no-Algebra day at Dalton. Didn't I tell you about that? Yeah we take a holiday and drive around the parking lot all period..._

Yeah. Wasn't going to call Dad. Mom was going to flip out, and she would tell Dad anyway, but... putting the inevitable off just a little longer seemed pretty attractive at the moment. Blaine's stomach turned thinking of the high probability that he'd be finding himself over a knee tonight. _And kiss any thought of being allowed to drive anywhere soon goodbye._

Blaine winced in misery. Gotta_ bite the bullet... _Blaine dialed his Mom's cell. It rang twice and she picked up.

"Blaine, I'm in a meeting what is it?"

He wasn't expecting this curt tone. _Great. _"Uh hey Mom. I just called because I-need-the-card- number-for-Triple-A." He said it fast and held his breath.

"You- what?"

"Dad never got me a Triple A card and I need the number. I... ran out of gas Mom."

"Why do you... where are you right now?"

"Uh, yeah- that's the thing." Blaine bit his lip.

"Blaine."

"I'm in Westerville."

"Where in Westerville?"

"I'm like a mile away from school, Mom." _Should start workin on my obituary now I guess._

"Hold on." Blaine strained to hear as her muffled voice "Excuse me...it's my son- I need to..."

_I need to reached through the phone lines and strangle him. That's the words you're lookin for, Mom. _Blaine sighed.

There was a long pause and she was back.

"Okay. I'm assuming you have a really good reason for being on the side of a road somewhere and not in school where I'm sending tuition checks every month, young man."

_This is going well. _Blaine swallowed.

"Well- I- not... exactly."

"You're skipping school."

"I- well I only meant to skip lunch—and study hall, but..."

"Who are you and what did you do with my son? Since when do you-"

"I'm sorry, Mom, I didn't think-"

"Yeah, you got that right."

_God this sucks. _"It's kind of a long story."

"I'm sure it is. I don't have time for this right now. Where are you?"

Blaine was confused. "I told you- I'm.-"

"No what street, Blaine."

"Oh. Uh. Old Coach Road, like a block down from that elementary school."

"Okay I'm calling Triple A. Stay there until they come rescue you. But the minute they're done, you get yourself back to school. What time are you done today?"

"I- uh, Warbler practice until five-"

"Fine. You made a commitment to them, you keep it. But then you're coming straight home. We can discuss your punishments at dinner."

_Punishments. Plural. Great. _

"Ye-es Mom."

"I look forward to your explanation, Blaine."

"I'm real sorry Mom."

"Well. You will be."

"You going to tell Dad?"

"...No I think he'd rather hear it from you.""

_Not sure if which is worse, honestly. Ugh._


	10. Chapter 10: 1:40PM

Triple A didn't take long. The guy gave him enough gas to get to the gas station down the road.

"Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

"Uh... parent teacher conference day..." Blaine lied. _Cut me a break man._

Once his car was fully functional again, Blaine headed off to Dalton to face what he expected was just the beginning of punitive experiences for the day. He didn't even bother sneaking around when he got back. It was 5 minutes before the next class, the detention was already inevitable. He breezed by the front office, ignoring the confused look from the nosy secretaries there.

"You have to sign in, Blaine-" one of them called out.

_Not if I never signed out. _Blaine just kept walking to Algebra, which was just getting out.

"Dude, where you been all period?" Jeff asked, chuckling. "No one's seen you hardly all day so Mr. Davis thought you were at the nurse."

Blaine just shrugged and ignored his friends looks, hanging in the back of the classroom until everyone had cleared out. He could try to lie and say that he had been feeling sick but... he really didn't have the energy to be deceitful right now. Besides, he'd be found out one way or another. His parents were so evil about these things that if he didn't cop to it with the school they'd call themselves to say he was lying.

Mr. Davis was grading a stack of papers and didn't look up until the last student had left and shut the door. "Blaine! Where have you been? I was just going to give he school nurse a call-"

"Yeah, um. I- wasn't there, sir."

Mr. Davis was confused. He didn't think Blaine had even gotten a demerit for chewing gum before. This wasn't a kid who would miss class without a really good reason. "Is- everything okay, Blaine?"

_Well except for the fact that I won't be able to sit comfortably for awhile once my father's through with me tonight..._

"Ye-es sir. I- just came to get the homework and... uh... I..." Blaine looked at the floor. "I need to apologize since I kinda blew off your class today."

Dalton had an Honor Code but Mr. Davis had never seen such... abject honesty in these circumstances before.

"You just- skipped my class?"

"...Yes sir."

Dumbfounded, Mr. Davis reached into one of the drawers in his desk. He tried to locate his teacher voice again, pulling out a mimeographed form.

"You know I have to write you up for that."

Blaine nodded, scuffing his shoe on the floor.

"I'm... surprised at you Mr. Anderson."

"Yes sir. I- I'm sorry sir."

Mr. Davis filled out the form quickly and tore off the top page. "You'll have detention Friday, but this has to be returned with parent signatures to the front office first thing tomorrow morning."

"I know sir." Blaine sheepishly walked to the desk and took it.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes sir. Lot on my mind is all."

"Okay." Mr. Davis handed Blaine a packet.

"This is the unit review packet for homework. Test tomorrow."

_Oh goody._

"Thanks sir."

"Now you best get going before you're late for your next class."

"Yes sir. Sorry again sir..." Blaine shuffled out, rushing down the hall and arriving at Composition just in the nick of time.

The rest of the afternoon Blaine kept a low profile. He went through the motions of his classwork, but was thankful none of the teachers did their surprise!-call-on-the-guy-that-doesn't-have-his-hand-raised thing today. He didn't feel like talking. Nick tried to grab him after Composition to find out where he'd been all day, but he just brushed him off saying he didn't feel like talking about it right now and kept on walking. He did his best to blend into the background at Warbler practice, which was largely taken up by Wes' endless scolding of the group for not learning their harmonies. As soon as they were released Blaine made a beeline for the parking lot instead of his usual hanging around catching up on gossip with the boys. He wasn't in any hurry to meet his fate but he figured maybe Mom and Dad would be easier on him if he at least didn't show up late for dinner...


	11. Chapter 11: 5:40PM

Blaine took a deep breath as he pulled into the driveway. Dad's car was already there. He was able to work from home about half the time now, but on days he went into the office Mom and him carpooled back and forth together. It was just easier than driving Blaine in the complete opposite direction when he finally had his license and could do it himself. College tuition plus Dalton tuition didn't leave a lot of extra cash for a third car, and anyway they didn't really think it was appropriate for teenagers to have their own cars. At least until they had jobs and could pay for their own insurance, which Blaine didn't. Getting out of the car, Blaine wondered what they would do. He figured car driving privileges were going to be high on the list of things revoked for today's infractions, but that would mean going back to the way it was before, with Mom driving him every day. She was not going to be happy about that. The one advantage of failing kindergarten the first time around had been that he was a year older and able to get his license before others in his class. It made the whole Dalton thing so much easier. Last year all that chauffeuring Blaine's mom had done made him feel extra guilty. It was just one more way his being gay was a burden to his family, one more thing he felt he couldn't make up to them.

Blaine opened the door to the house, fidgety, and dropped his bag and jacket on the bench in the front hall. He took off his blazer and hung it on the banister, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie. Most days he couldn't get his uniform off fast enough at the end of the day. He had a lot of Dalton pride and was happy to wear it there, but at the end of the day he wanted some sweatpants to relax in. He supposed he wasn't going to get much opportunity to change before his parents started reaming him out today though. He could hear the clanging of pots in the kitchen, and knew it was time to face the music.

He undid the tie and hung it over the banister as well and then grudgingly headed into the kitchen.

Dad was looking over the mail at the island. Mom was stirring pasta at the stove.

"Hey, how'd that Latin test go?" Dad's friendly voice made it clear he didn't know yet. She really was going to make him tell.

Blaine hadn't even thought about the Latin test in hours. _Oh right, the other thing I screwed up today. _He grimaced. "Uh... terrible."

"But you studied-?"

"Yeah, I don't know, Mr. Sullivan's tests keep surprising me..."

"Well, wait until you see what grade you got and if it's as bad as you think maybe you should go get some extra help from him."

Blaine nodded. The absurdity of talking about that test right now made him feel more fidgety. In his peripheral vision, Blaine saw Mrs. Anderson turn the stove down and turn around, looking Blaine over appraisingly. Swallowing, he shot a glance to her and then looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Gabe, your son has some things he needs to discuss today."

"Hmmm...?" Mr. Anderson was only half-listening, heading back to the table opening a belated birthday card from his cousin.

"Yes he called me at work today with some... surprising things to say." Mrs. Anderson was looking pointedly at Blaine, whose mouth was suddenly feeling very dry.

"Gabriel."

"What- I'm listening..." he said, still distracted reading the card.

Crossing to her son, Mrs. Anderson said, "Blaine, why don't you explain to your father why you had to call me today."

"Uh- well..." Blaine bit his lip. Because, where to begin. Was there any way to say he skipped school after he promised not to drive anywhere but school and home just that morning that wouldn't make him look like someone in need of serious punishment?

Out of patience, Mrs. Anderson gave a hard smack to Blaine's bottom. "Start. Talking."

Mr. Anderson looked up at that. Something was going on.

Looking back and forth between his two parents, Blaine turned a bit to move himself a couple inches out of direct swatting range. "I... uh... kinda screwed up today Dad."

Mr. Anderson donned his Scary Dad Face, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Screwed up how?"

"Well... I-" Maybe start with the less Really Bad confessions first? "I sorta ran out of gas."

Gabriel Anderson sighed, irritated. "Didn't I tell you this morning that that would happen?"

"Y-yes s-sir."

"If you can't show you can be responsible for a car you're not going to be driving one very much, young man."

Blaine looked at the floor, nodding miserably.

"Part of your allowance is supposed to be going to gas money, are you wasting your money on other things?"

"N-no sir, I just- had a lot on my mind and didn't notice-"

"So your excuse is you just forget?"

"I- um..." Blaine was flustered. Were there right answers to these kinds of questions?

"Because if you need a firm hand to help you remember these things Blaine, I'm more than happy to oblige," Mr. Anderson threatened.

Blaine hated that familiar feeling of being very small. It returned anytime he was in hot water around here, and sometimes he hated that feeling even more than any punishment his parents ever wielded. Blood rushing to his face, he stammered at his dad. "S-sorry sir."

"And when did this happen?"

_Boy if he thinks he's mad about this __now__..._

"About- uh..." Blaine looked at his hands. "Around one o' clock this afternoon Dad."

Mr. Anderson's lifted an eyebrow. "One o'clock-?" He was confused. "You're in school at-" his eyes went wide, realizing. He stood up. Blaine took a nervous step back in response. Mr. Anderson's voice became very slow and icy. "Are you telling me..."

Shakily Blaine pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and opened it up, laying it on the island. "I have to get you to sign this. When you- get caught... skipping..." Blaine swallowed, "you get a detention."

"I would imagine so." Rosalie said curtly, taking the paper and looking it over. Passing it over to her husband, she asked what she'd been wanting to know all afternoon. "Blaine Gabriel Anderson what on Earth would possess you to-"

"I didn't mean to miss class, it was just going to be study hall and lunch-" Blaine blurted.

Mr. Anderson jumped on that, outraged. "You planning on using that as your defense? **Really**?" _Yeah this is about where I guess I predicted the yelling would start. _"Your mother and I work hard to send you to Dalton and your brother to college and you think we're okay with you sneaking off whenever you feel like it?"

"N-no sir, I-"

Blaine's dad held up the demerit report. "You thinking you're going to become one of those kids that just gets a detention all the time and it isn't a big deal?"

"Of- of c-course not Dad, I -" Blaine was trying miserably trying to defend himself, not knowing where to put his hands.

"So this morning when you told me- 'Oh no Dad, I'm only going to drive to school and back today,' - you knew all along that you were going to try to pull a stunt like this? What if you were in an accident, Blaine? Your mother and I wouldn't even know you weren't at school. You could be in the hospital and we wouldn't even know where you were."

Blaine sniffed, refusing to get teary at that very good point. Getting yelled at blew. His voice was quiet. "I'm sorry, I was... trying to help a friend."

"A friend?" Mrs. Anderson asked.

"...at McKinley High School."

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson exchanged glances. This was unexpected.

"Why would you go there?"Mrs Anderson knew that some of the kids from Blaine's middle school went there now but he barely spoke to any of them even when he was in the same class with them two years ago.

Blaine sighed, leaning against the island unhappily. "There's this guy, Kurt. He- he goes there. He- he's like me. I mean, he's gay." Both of Mr. Anderson's eyebrows raised at that. He skipped school to chase boys? Blaine saw the expression and jumped in. "N-n-no it's- not like that. I mean- I just met him a couple days ago."

Mrs. Anderson crossed her arms, unimpressed. Blaine scrambled.

"He's got this bully. Harrassing him."

Mrs. Anderson face softened a bit, listening. Mr. Anderson, on the other hand, was skeptical, waiting for the punchline.

Blaine wrestled his fingers together. Hoping this semi-good excuse would result in leniency. "He's really upset about it, but his family can't afford to go to Dalton or anything. And he asked me to help him... uh, confront him."

"You went to pick a fight with this guy?" Mrs. Anderson was alarmed now.

"N-no. I just..." Blaine was frustrated. "Kurt thinks he's... probably gay too. The bullying's a front. And he thought if he told him he wasn't alone and stuff... that he'd back off. But he wanted... back up."

"He sees him every day before lunch and he's been really upset about this guy. He's been beating him up and taunting him and- just the kind of stuff I sorta went through too. And I never had anyone to..." Blaine trailed off. "He needed someone in his corner."

This was a lot to process. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson looked at each other, not saying anything. Blaine took a breath.

"I know you... have to spend a lot of money on my education now. I'm sorry if I... uh, disrespected that."

Mr. Anderson sat on one of the stools, watching his gittery kid. He wanted to say "Hey, I'm always in your corner Blaine. And Greg and your mom and all of Dalton is too." But he didn't. Rules were rules. But he needed time to calm down before he addressed them.

"It sounds like you may have had some... altruistic... ideas about going to that school today Blaine. But those reasons don't excuse this behavior. You don't have access to your car so you can go places without permission. And you certainly don't have permission to be skipping school."

"Certainly not." Mrs. Anderson chimed in quietly.

"Your mother and I are going to have dinner because she needs to get to her book club. You will eat yours later, after you and I have a serious discussion tonight." Blaine bit his lip, nodding miserably at that. "She and I need to decide your punishments for this..." _Again with the plural. Great._ Blaine looked at the floor. "...so I think you can spend some time in the corner right now young man."

Blaine looked up quickly at that, appalled. "The -corner, Dad?"

Mr. Anderson nodded firmly. "I'd send you to your room but you've proven today that I can't trust you to go to places where I can't see you."

"Dad, come on, I-"

Mrs. Anderson gave a quick spank to Blaine's backside that shut him up. Speaking gently, she admonished, "You need to listen to your father, Blaine."

Embarrassed, Blaine shuffled off to the corner in the living room where he had once been a rather familiar customer. Like when he was about eight. _This day just keeps getting better._


	12. Chapter 12: 5:55PM

The corner was every bit as boring as Blaine remembered it, and more humiliating. At least in his room he could just hide. Knowing his parents could look up from the kitchen and see him standing there made it worse somehow. He was totally having flashbacks to about second grade, a time when he was fully sure he was too old for this then too. He used to lean his head agaist the corner and whine "Mommmm... come on..." and she'd add to his time out for all the whining. His brother would taunt him there, saying "Shut up and be glad you're not getting a licking," to which ironically getting a swat for that himself. Blaine smiled, remembering how as a kid he'd reveled a little bit in any little bit of naughtiness Greg displayed. He worshipped his brother, but it was nice to see him taken down a notch sometimes. He was always the perfect one, the straight A student who actually cried the day his mom told him Blaine was going to go back to kindergarten again. Nowadays, of course, Blaine could laugh the whole thing off, his grades were fine now, he had a late birthday, he was just not ready for school yet, etc. – but there was something pretty awful about being five and a half years old and knowing you'd embarrassed your family. Later that same week Greg had gotten a spanking for saying Blaine was too stupid to go to first grade, and Blaine had felt conflicted between validation of "Yeah I'm not stupid, Greg's a meanie," and guilt that his brother had gotten in trouble for saying what he believed then to be the truth. His second kindergarten teacher had greeted him warmly saying, "Hello Blaine, I know your brother. You have a nice family." and Blaine had told her outright,, "Well I'm not smart like he is." The teacher was astonished, called his parents, and put in a lot of extra time encouraging Blaine after that. But Blaine hadn't said it to gain sympathy. He earnestly wanted to protect her from the disappointment he was going to be to her.

Trying not to be a disappointment was a running theme with Blaine. He was a people-pleaser, to a fault, and was only beginning to see where that might not always be the best idea. _Maybe I could have helped Kurt some other way... _Maybe this whole thing had happened because he just really wanted to be someone's hero. It killed him that his parents found out. Skipping school was the kind of thing juvenile delinquents did. _What was I thinking? _Still, he knew Kurt appreciated it. There was a time he would have given anything to have someone- anyone- who would stand by his side in front of a bully like that. Even Kyle would shut down in the hallways if someone called Blaine a faggot or made fun of his bowties. He was too wrapped up in trying to protect himself, Blaine reasoned. At any rate, it wasn't really fair to criticize, because back then Blaine wasn't exactly brave about standing up for other people himself. There were lots of times when the bullies of West Lima Middle School would surround some nerdy kid and Blaine would just hustle on by, afraid to get caught in the crossfire. He'd gotten more confidence since Dalton, and with the boxing lessons he'd gained some ability to defend himself so... probably he'd be a better friend if he was in public school now. He might disappoint his family sometimes, but he wasn't going to disappoint his friends.

Blaine stared up at the ceiling for a change of pace. He thought this whole stand-in-the-corner business was a bit much right now, but he supposed he shouldn't complain. It was childish, but it wasn't the worst that his parents could deal out- probably would deal out- and he probably should enjoy the quiet now while he could. He strained to hear his parents' quiet conversation over the radio his mom had left on. They were, no doubt, discussing exactly how to make his life miserable for the foreseeable future. He deserved it, he guessed. He would do it again- probably- but he'd let them down. He resolved that whatever the final sentence was, he wouldn't complain or whine, he'd just take it. His Dad might not say it, but he'd be proud if he manned up for this. _Not that I'm much of a man if my daddy can still make me stand in a corner. _Blaine sighed. They needed to hurry up and get this over with. The waiting was just making it all worse.


	13. Chapter 13: 6:15PM

Once he was finished with his dinner, Gabriel put his empty cup on his plate, stood up and sighed, looking over at his son's back in the corner of the other room. There were just some times when being a parent was a lot less fun than others.

"Alright, Blaine. Couch." His son turned his head timidly. Mr. Anderson gestured his head towards the other end of the room.

Blaine complied, sitting nervously on the sofa and tensely folding his hands on his lap. Mr. Anderson put his plate in the sink, walked in the living room, and grabbed a chair from the side of the room. He placed it in front of Blaine and sat, looking him over.

Rosalie was getting her coat on already. She walked over to Blaine.

"Keys?"

"Oh... right." Blaine reached into his pocket and handed them over. _Probably won't be seeing those for awhile I suppose..._

Mrs. Anderson considered the keys in her hand for a moment.

"Blaine you made some choices today that could have been pretty dangerous."

Blaine looked at the floor. She touched his cheek to make him look at her.

"Your father and I are glad you're okay."

Blaine nodded. There wasn't anything to say to that. She put the keys in her purse and headed for the door. Blaine watched her leave and bit his lip.

_Leaving me alone with Dad. That __always__ goes well._

"Well then." Mr. Anderson cleared his throat and Blaine turned back towards him, eyes to the floor with what he hoped looked like an appropriately chastised look on his face. "Your mother and I have discussed your behavior today. Needless to say, we are not pleased."

"Yes sir. It- won't happen again sir."

"Oh I know it's not going to happen again, Blaine. But- would you- do it all over again?"

"Sir?"

"I'm sure you're not thrilled to be in trouble at the moment, but if that weren't a factor, would you go back and do this all over again?"

Blaine shifted uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. "I- Dad- it was wrong- of course I wouldn't..."

"Blaine." Mr. Anderson's gaze on his son was unwavering. The teenager slumped a little.

"I- I don't know sir." Blaine conceded.

"That's about what I figured. Which means we have a bit of a problem here. Because you're getting to an age where you need to do what you're supposed to do because it's what you're supposed to do. Not just because you don't want to get punished. It isn't okay to do the wrong thing as long as you think you won't get caught."

Blaine nodded miserably.

"Your mother and I don't expect you to be perfect, but we do expect to be able to trust you. You know how I feel about lying, and lying by sneaking around or simply not telling us things are lies too, son. And I meant it about not being able to send you to your room. The message I got today was that I can't trust you to do what you say you will do, or to act the way you know I expect you to if you think your parents are never going to find out."

Blaine's faced scrunched in his displeasure. This sucked.

"So. There are a couple of things that are going to happen. You're not driving anywhere but school for the next month. Your mother and I discussed whether you should be allowed to drive to school at all, honestly, but we decided that Mom having to go back to chauffeur duty was more of a punishment for her than for you. But this means you finish at Dalton and you'll have to be back in time for dinner. It's your new curfew during the week. No hanging out after your Warbler practice, driving to the coffee shop, none of that until the month is up. I'm marking it on the calendar, and any day you show up late coming back, we're adding a day to this, understand?"

Blaine nodded obediently.

"You're on restriction from your phone and the intenet this week too. Your friends need help with homework they can call the house and you can answer it in the kitchen. You need to do work for school on a computer you borrow your mother's laptop and do it in the living room- where we can see you. If giving you the privacy and independence to send messages to your friends in your room means you're going to abuse that privilege by working out ways to sneak around, that tells me you need to be reminded that it is a privilege and it can be taken away."

Blaine nodded again. He wasn't going to argue. A week was less than some of his friends would get for something like this, actually.

"Cars are dangerous enough when we know where you are Blaine. Now, I know you can defend yourself." Blaine was secretly pleased to hear his father say those words aloud. "But your mother makes a good point that you didn't know this kid- this bully- and while you may have wanted to help him, or at least, help this friend of yours- there were safer choices you could have made there."

Blaine shrugged, still looking at the floor. He had been caught off guard when Karofsky had pushed him up against the fence. It could have gotten more violent.

"We hold Dalton accountable for keeping you safe, but that only works if you're there when you're expected to be there. After... everything that happened before... your mother and I are committed to making your safety our number one priority. Your choices today could have put that safety in jeopardy. So, for that reason most of all, we agreed you also need a good spanking young man. Ignoring right from wrong has long term consequences, but when you choose to do what you want anyway you're going to face this short term consequence here."

Blaine looked at his hands. It was, more or less, expected. But it still sucked.


	14. Chapter 14: 6:25PM

Resigned, and attempting bravery, Blaine stood up.

"I- understand sir." he said quietly. Then he added, "I don't- like it, but I understand it."

"Fair enough." Mr. Anderson gave a nod and gestured towards Blaine's pants. Usually he would have pulled them down himself, so it was almost a reprieve. One little thing to make an excruciatingly juvenile punishment a little less childish. By a hair. Blaine shakily unbuttoned his gray pants and pushed them down to the edge of his navy boxer briefs, looking towards the bookshelf as he felt gravity pulling them down further past his knees. Swallowing, he pushed himself to crawl over his father's lap quickly. _The quicker this starts the quicker it's over._

Mr. Anderson unbuttoned the sleeve on his shirt and rolled it up. He then reached down to Blaine's waist and pulled his underwear up and over his bottom, pushing it down to his knees, which tensed nervously. _Man up. The quicker this starts the quicker it's over. _Blaine scolded himself to focus, not wanting to betray his anxiety right now. _It's just a spanking. Been here before, probably will be again. _

Mr. Anderson put one hand on Blaine's back and one on his bared bottom, steeling himself for the task ahead. "I hope you remember this next time you're tempted to sneak behind our backs Blaine."

"Yes sir." _God just get on with it. _In some ways the moments before a punishment, being hyper-aware of being exposed, were worse than the pain of the punishment itself.

_ "_You should know I thought about whether your mother's wooden spoon was in order tonight." Blaine inhaled slowly, his back tensing at that particular thought. Mom had often threatened him and Greg with the spoon when they were younger, but it was rarely used. He'd felt it maybe five or six times, and not in quite a long while. The only thing he ever wanted to avoid more than the wooden spoon was his dad's belt. "Now I think you understand what you did was wrong, Blaine. But if I ever catch you skipping school again, or driving your mother's car when you have no business driving it, we're going to be opening that drawer and seeing if you need something stronger to get your attention. Am I clear?"

"...Y-es sir." Blaine closed his eyes, every ounce of his energy trying to prevent himself from fidgeting.

**SMACK. SMACK. **After all the lecturing and waiting Blaine was almost relieved to feel the first sharp swats to his bottom. He gritted his teeth as his father spanked, trying not to make any noise. He winced as his father's hand slapped at his sit spots and barely held in a whimper as he felt the rhythm pick up in speed. His stockinged feet twisted against each other as the spanking continued, relentlessly. His dad paused for a second or two at one point and Blaine groaned out a pained exhale, before an "Oww..." escaped his lips as it began anew. _This sucks. This sucks. _His breath stuttered at the pain, and after a certain while he couldn't help himself. He lifted his torso, twisting like he wanted to reach back and cover his bottom, but then thought better of it, miserably falling back to looking at the floor. "Dadddd-" he whined quietly.

"Not fun then, Blaine? **SMACK-SMACK-SMACK**." Blaine's bottom squirmed over his father's lap.

"No I'm sorrryyyy. Come onnn..."

"**SMACK** Good. Glad I **SMACK** have your **SMACK** full **SMACK** attention **SMACK**-**SMACK** young **SMACK** man. **SMACK.**" Blaine was barely holding on to his ability not to kick now. Each slap seemed to hurt more than the next, and he was never sure where the next one was going to hit. Mr. Anderson was spanking, hard, all over his bare bottom and the tops of his thighs. It stung everywhere and Blaine was trying not to get teary about it. _Man up, come on, man up. _But his resolve was getting weaker as exhaustion and pain took over his headspace. He whimpered out a series of "I'm-sorry-dad-I'm-sorry-dad,-dad-I'm-sorry," as all pretenses of being brave and strong slipped out of his control. Blaine thought miserably of what his friends at school would think if they saw him like this. He was pretty sure he didn't know anyone else who got spanked. Of course it wasn't something a person was going to advertise.

"It hurtssss sirr..." Blaine had regressed into a whining state. If he was a little kid he'd kick and scream, but he wasn't little and he needed to hold it together. Whining was childish, he guessed, but it allowed him to express right now, and his dignity had been fading already anyhow.

"I hope it does young man. **SMACK SLAP SLAP SMACK**. I hope **SLAP** you remember **SLAP** this **SLAP** for a long **SLAP** time **SLAP SLAP**." Mr. Anderson stopped there, resting his hand on Blaine's back. Somehow the stopping made Blaine's tears sneak out, the relief at it being done pressing throughout his insides. He laid there for a few moments, unhappily resigned to his tears, scrunching his face trying to think of anything but the searing feeling all across his bottom right now.


	15. Chapter 15: 6:40PM

Mr. Anderson rubbed Blaine's back for a second and then pulled his underwear up. With a tap to his bottom, he signaled that he was really done and he could get up. Blaine, red-faced, crawled up and hurriedly pulled his pants back into place. Looking away from his father, he shakily buttoned them back up and sniffed, wiping his tear-stained face with the back of his hand in a quick motion.

"I hope that's the last time you need to be over my knee for a long while young man."

_You and me both._

"Sorry I uh... let you down sir." Blaine looked at the floor, fidgety again.

Mr. Anderson looked him over, appraisingly. It seemed like Blaine needed reassurance. "Blaine. You're forgiven. It's done."

Blaine nodded.

"But you need to put the cell phone in my den."

"Ye-es sir." Blaine walked a little gingerly as he went to retrieve it. He felt raw, physically and emotionally. He was always exhausted after a serious spanking like this. _You'd think that'd make me do a better job of avoiding them... _Tired and fully chastised, he brought the phone over to his dad's den and left it on the desk, looking at it wistfully before walking away.

His father stopped him on his way out. "Hey- maybe you should give your friend the home number."

"What-?" Blaine wasn't sure what friend his Dad was talking about.

"The McKinley kid.."

Blaine did a double take. He could hardly believe his ears. His father put his hand on his shoulder.

"We don't like the way you went about this. But we're proud you're a good friend, kid." Blaine's eyes went wide. "We don't want you White Knight-ing your way into a dangerous situation but it does sound like this kid needs a buddy to talk to." Blaine nodded. "So he's welcome over for dinner sometime or whatever. But he needs to know, he's only going to be able to reach you on the main line until you're off restriction."

"Yes sir. Uh, thanks Dad."

Mr. Anderson smiled and went into his filing cabinet, looking for work papers. Blaine checked his cell for Kurt's number and wrote it down. He went into the kitchen and dialed the number. Mr. Anderson could hear him from the other room.

"...Hey- Kurt? Yeah, it me. I- this is my number at home. Uh. I'm kind of, in a bit of hot water, so won't have my cell this week... uh, yeah, it sucks. It's a long story. But- just wanted to call and see how you're doin..." Blaine held the phone between his head and his shoulder, spooning out his dinner from the stovepot at last, listening. "Yeah Warblers are getting more serious these days too with Sectionals coming up. It's pretty exciting... Hey, one of my friends is in a show in a couple weeks. Maybe I could score another ticket if you're interested? A bunch of Dalton guys are going..." Blaine smiled and nodded, listening to Kurt's cheerful sound over the phone. He'd never really heard Kurt cheerful, really. _This guy just needs to have some fun. Blaine Anderson is on the case._


End file.
